As the carriage pulled away, the atmosphere in the White Tower's sixth-floor Council Chamber grew tense.
A piece of top-secret intelligence lay on the conference table.
Six elders, all dressed in red magus robes, sat in a circle.
As master magi clad in red, they were also the stewards overseeing the affairs of the White Tower.
"Where does this come from? Another defeat in the war against the Northerners?" one elder inquired.
"No, this is from the Eastern Archipelago, and the situation there is deteriorating even further," the steward responsible for intelligence shook his head.
The room plunged into silence.
...
Maple Lane.
"Is this where you were yesterday?" Seasoft looked around.
Contrasting the hustle and bustle of San Sorus's city center, Maple Lane was a quieter haven.
"Yes," Bairon nodded.
Seasoft turned back, "You seemed distressed when you came back yesterday. Did something happen here?"
Bairon had not hidden his quest for a Greyscale cure in San Sorus from Seasoft, and she had a good idea why he'd been at Maple Lane.
"Mrs. Howard has passed away. Her family is grieving, but I can't afford to waste time. I need to continue searching for other leads," Bairon explained, his tone serious.
Just then, the front door of the house at 66 Maple Lane opened.
"Stop the carriage!" Seasoft exclaimed.
The coachman pulled the reins sharply, halting the vehicle abruptly.
Bairon steadied Evelyn and asked, "What are you doing?"
"They've come out; go talk to them!" Seasoft said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
At that moment, Leona, the middle-aged maid who was escorting the young lady from the house, spotted the unfamiliar carriage parked in front of her home—and Bairon inside it.
A frown spread across Bairon's face as Leona stormed toward the carriage.
"Listen here, grey-robed magus. There's no chance my young mistress will entertain your advances. Your character is too flawed, your power too inconsequential!" Leona shouted into the carriage.
Seasoft and Evelyn exchanged puzzled glances.
"She doesn't look particularly grief-stricken, Lord Stewart," Seasoft observed.
Taking a deep breath, Bairon rapped on the carriage door. "To the Goethe Hotel."
"Very well, sir."
Sensing that the situation was amiss, the coachman tipped his hat to Leona, gesturing for her to step aside before cracking the whip.
As the carriage pulled away, a young woman draped in a cloak, her face veiled in dark mesh revealing only delicate red lips and golden hair tips, spoke up, "Leona, it seems you've misunderstood him."
Leona looked startled. "How could I, Miss?"
"Do you remember what he said he needed?" the young woman asked.
"Mrs. Howard's keepsake," Leona replied.
The young woman paused for a moment. "Next time he comes, tell him that the keepsake has been taken by the Church of Light. And be sure to apologize; you were quite rude."
"Very well, Miss," Leona responded, then asked, "Shall we head to the academy now?"
The young woman nodded. "Yes, Teacher Barbara has a roster that allows me to choose my teammates in advance."
...
Nightfall.
The carriage came to a halt in front of the Goethe Hotel.
Bairon alighted first, holding the door open.
Seasoft hopped down, each hand holding a grilled fish seasoned with aromatic spices, munching and humming a tune.
Evelyn followed, clutching a small bag of snacks made from a blend of sour fruit and honey.
Once everyone was out, Bairon shut the door, paid the fare, and handed the coachman an extra two silver coins.
Tucking the extra coins carefully into his pocket, the coachman removed his hat and bowed deeply, "Sir, your noble and generous character is beyond question!"
The compliment seemed to refute Leona's earlier accusation.
Yet, it hung awkwardly in the air, like a counterpoint seeking harmony in a dissonant world.
Bairon mustered a strained smile in response.
The carriage rolled away, leaving the three of them to walk toward the inn.
Finishing off a delicious grilled fish, Seasoft waved the skeletal remains and declared, "Bairon, if you treat me to dinners like this every day, your generous character is indeed beyond question!"
"You might as well continue to doubt me, then," Bairon retorted.
After leaving Maple Lane and finding that the afternoon was still young, Bairon had taken the equally idle Seasoft and Evelyn to the culinary boulevard of San Sorus.
The gastronomic spree had cost him a full five gold coins, of which Evelyn had consumed less than half a coin's worth—the rest had all gone to Seasoft.
The half-Elf, surprisingly unfamiliar with human culinary traditions, was frustratingly picky.
The trio returned to the second floor of the inn, stopping before Room 205.
Suddenly remembering something, Bairon turned and asked, "Seasoft, who do you plan on getting to reinstall your new mana core?"
To buy the new mana core, Seasoft had traded in her old one and spent an additional 200 gold coins.
However, the cost to have it reinstalled could be multiple times the cost of the mana core itself.
"I'm not sure yet. I'll think about it when I've saved up enough," Seasoft replied.
It seemed she was not in a hurry to use her bow.
Bairon breathed a sigh of relief, but then caught a nuance in her words. "If you plan on making money through spells, remember to register in advance at the White Tower."
Just as the Provincial Alliance was eager to accept Elves as citizens, the White Tower was also keen to welcome Elves and half-Elves, who are naturally magus.
However, even Elves had to go to the magus tower's mission hall to accept tasks if they wanted to make money using spells.
This was one of White Tower's strictest rules, non-negotiable.
"Magus towers are an Elf's nightmare; I won't go there," Seasoft threw the clean fish bones into a trash bin.
During the wars where humans had conquered Elf kingdoms, a magus tower was erected in each captured city.
As a result, magus towers had become an object of dread for all Elves.
This also explained why, despite the White Tower's enthusiasm, Bairon had never heard of an Elf joining a magus tower.
"So, what do you plan to do?" Bairon couldn't help but ask.
"I don't know," Seasoft shook her head, "but I'm not in a hurry."
You're not in a hurry but you spent recklessly on a new mana core… Bairon grumbled inwardly before letting out a resigned sigh, "Fine, leave it to me."
"Are you offering to pay?" Seasoft's eyes suddenly sparkled with excitement. "You truly are the finest individual I've ever met, Lord Stewart!"
"No," Bairon replied, "I mean once I become an apprentice Crafting Magus, I'll attempt to install it for you."
Joining the magus academy and becoming an apprentice Crafting Magus was Bairon's secondary goal in coming to San Sorus.
He was quite confident that his chances of success were high—unless some insurmountable obstacle presented itself.
Seasoft's initially thrilled expression gradually cooled.
"Goodnight, Evelyn," Bairon said, opening the door to Room 205 and disappearing down the hallway.
...
Once inside Room 205, Bairon took a bath before changing into a fresh magus robe.
He then channeled a sliver of mental energy into the Ring of the Dark Tower.
Despite the notice posted at the Goethe Hotel's front desk stating, "This area is covered by a magus web; the use of Mindergy is prohibited," the words were somewhat ambiguous.
Firstly, the ban on using spells was primarily intended to maintain the order of San Sorus.
However, there was one specific spell that both the White Tower and the Citizens' Council actively encouraged magi to employ: the Meditation spell.
Meditation could serve two purposes: it could help a magus recover Mindergy and enhance their abilities.
Given that magi formed the backbone of the Provincial Alliance, it only made sense that making them stronger was a priority.
The primary distinction between Meditation and other spells was that Meditation was self-focused, internal.
As such, when the White Tower deployed their magus web, they specifically designed a rule stating that "self-affecting spells are harmless," and programmed this stipulation into the web's spell equipment.
This created a loophole: any spell that affected only oneself would not trigger the web's alarms.
Injecting Mindergy into the Ring of the Dark Tower was precisely such an action.
A wave of dizziness washed over him.
Bairon opened his eyes.
The Dark Tower materialized before him.
"The Ring of the Dark Tower hasn't been detected by the White Tower," Bairon remarked.
Old John chuckled, "Even if it were the real thing, the White Tower wouldn't be able to detect it, let alone a mere replica."
Bairon paused, then inquired, "So the true one is in the Meditation Palace in the Kingdom of the North?"
"That too is a fake," Old John opined.
"Don't dig too deep into the White Tower. The more you know about it, the more it knows about you," Charlotte warned.
"I understand," a shiver ran down Bairon's spine. Then, resolutely, he added, "Increase the difficulty of today's training, my lady. I aim to break through to the 4th ring."